Fabled
by 2phive8
Summary: Mix equal parts honey & vinegar and what do you get? Teenagers.


Fabled

AN: So I was sitting here, thinking how annoyed I was that the oneshot I mentioned didn't turn out the way I wanted, and suddenly I had an idea on how to re-work it--so here you go. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Coraline: talk to Neil Gaiman/Laika Studios.

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Once Upon a Time, the Sun and the Wind were caught up in a fierce argument over which of the two was stronger.

Glancing down, the Sun spotted a young man and woman riding together on a rather noisy bicycle and came up with a brilliant plan. "Here now, brother, how about this: whichever of us can get those two travelers to remove their coats will be named the strongest. I'll even let you take the first turn, as a gesture of goodwill."

The Wind agreed, and turned his attention to the pair speeding along the road below while the Sun hid behind a passing cloud. Determined to prove himself, the Wind began to blow with all his might, intending to rip the coats right of their wearer's backs.

But the harder he blustered, the closer the pair pulled their jackets to their bodies, until finally he was forced to admit defeat.

The Sun emerged to take his turn, confident as could be; shining brightly, he beamed down on the travelers with all the warmth he could muster.

It didn't take long before the young man started yanking on his collar, looking overheated; the young woman, however, stubbornly refused to take off her coat. Punching the boy in the arm, she gestured at the shade of a nearby tree and directed him to pedal over to it. There she settled at the base of the trunk, canary-yellow jacket still fastened all the way up, ignoring the sweat beading on her brow with mulish stoicism. Her companion lay beside her atop his discarded outerwear, fanning his face and panting with exertion.

Needless to say, the elemental argument ended in a stalemate, both parties agreeing that some people are simply impossible.

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"Alright, class, get out your literature texts and open to page 114."

Grumbling, Coraline Jones reached under her seat, feeling around the wire basket suspended there. Locating the biggest, heaviest book in the stack, she grunted with the effort of dragging the large tome up and over, letting it drop to her desk with a loud '_bang._' Ignoring the teacher's reproachful glare, she flipped to the desired page--and groaned. '_What, seriously? I manage to survive up to my sophomore year, and __**this**__ is what we're studying--_'

A shadow blocked the florescent lighting's glow. Looking up, Coraline saw her teacher looming over her with a smirk. "Ms. Jones. Since you seem so eager, why don't you read the passage aloud for us?"

Irked, she didn't bother trying to keep the petulance from her voice.

"The world is full of 'sayings', little catchphrases of morality meant to teach a lesson. In fact, here's another one: 'There's a saying for everything.' And indeed, it certainly **does** seem that way."

Coraline sat back, expecting someone else to take over.

The teacher simply folded his arms and nodded. "You're not done yet, Ms. Jones. Continue."

Scowling, she jabbed a finger at the printed words and used it as guide, tracing the lines as her eyes followed along.

"One of the most famous and beloved collections of stories based on morals is the series of folktales known as 'Aesop's Fables,' so if you're looking for a boring night in, hit him up. He's good for it," Coraline quipped boldly, staring at her teacher's angry face unflinchingly. The other students chortled and whispered behind their hands, watching the scene unfold.

The older man glowered, bushy mustache twitching. "Anything else you'd like to add?"

"Yeah," she shot back, refusing to back down, "what kind of stupid name is _Aesop_ anyway?"

"The kind that earns students extra homework assignments. Five pages on the meaning behind the saying 'You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.' Turn it in tomorrow with your other paper, Ms. Jones." He gave her a smug grin before turning to the blackboard, chalk screeching as he scribbled out notes for the class to copy.

If he knew Coraline was making faces at him behind his back, he said nothing.

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Coraline stamped down the hall, furious. '_That jerk…he's just mad because he knows his lessons suck. Who does he think he is, always picking on me?!_'

A soft touch on her shoulder interrupted her inner tirade. "Jonesy?"

Whirling around she saw her best friend and preferred punching bag, Wybie Lovat, bravely (or perhaps foolishly) standing within strike range.

"Oh, hey." Not in the mood for idle chit-chat, Coraline closed the locker with more force than was usually considered polite and started walking, knowing that he would follow her.

He didn't disappoint. "What's up? Something happen?"

She twined a lock of cobalt hair around her finger sulkily, patience wearing dangerously thin. "Not **really**."

Wybie could never resist an opportunity to impart some of his vast knowledge, no matter how unwilling his audience. "You know, I've heard it's unhealthy to bottle up negative emotions. Leads to all kinds of problems, like excess stress and aggressiveness--"

Coraline stopped cold and held a hand up threateningly. "Are you trying to say I have problems, _Why-were-you-born_…?"

He shrank back, green eyes darting from her fist to her face, unable to suppress his 'I-told-you-so' expression. "See what I mean?"

His incredibly sore shoulder made driving home particularly challenging, but he managed.

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After another one of her father's inspired--_'intestine-ruining', _she groused--meals, Coraline retired to her room for the night. Tossing her bag into the nearest corner, she fell on her bed with a sigh, the aged mattress creaking in protest as she bounced. "What is it about this place that makes it so annoying?"

Rolling onto her stomach, she dragged the nearest pillow over and propped up her chin on it. "I bet Wybie would have an answer to that one--the word 'rhetorical' doesn't even exist in his vocabulary." Coraline couldn't help but snicker at the thought. "What did that one guy say…'The dumbest people I know are the ones who know it all.' Ha!" She unconsciously rubbed her thumb over her knuckles, still red from the powerful punch she'd given him earlier, lips quirking into a small smile. "But still, he has his moments…"

A tapping sound drew her attention to Cat, who was waiting on the sill to be let in. Levering herself up on her palms, Coraline hopped out of bed and strolled toward the window, in no rush.

Cat rapped his claws against the glass impatiently, as if to say '_Hurry it up, it's cold out here._'

She paused with a incredulous snort. "Oh, I'm sorry, not fast enough for you? Maybe you should just sleep outside tonight!"

Cat was too proud for apologies, but he did his best to look chastened.

Coraline gave in. Rolling her eyes as she moved the windowpane aside, letting both feline and cool evening air in, she said "You sure are bossy. Don't most cats try to look cute when they want something?"

He gave her wrist a disdainful lick, abrasive skin rasping against her as if to say '_I am __**not**__ most cats._'

Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to stay mad at him. Scratching behind his good ear, she mused "I guess that's part of what I like about you."

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"Coraline, _honestly_," Mel finally cracked one morning, unable to bear another slammed cabinet or whined complaint, "just let your father make you a couple pancakes. Even he can't screw those up too badly."

Throwing open the fridge with a growl, Coraline scanned its sparse contents with the kind of irritability only hunger can inspire. "Ugh, no way! Last time they looked like tires…tasted like them, too."

"Hey!" Charlie squawked from his perch on the counter, pouting. Both women ignored him.

Shoving aside a half-empty carton of orange juice and a shriveled bell pepper, the teen's face lit up as she spotted a bowl of chocolate pudding. The plastic wrap draped uselessly over the container, refusing to cling to any surface--not even its own. "A-ha! This should do."

Mel glanced up from her computer screen, grimacing as she caught sight of her daughter's intended meal. "Coraline, that stuff's ancient. Besides, I hardly think pudding is a nutritious breakfast. Don't eat that, get rid of it."

Frowning, Coraline rummaged through the silverware drawer for a spoon. "Whatever, it's fine. Better than eating rubber, right Dad?"

Charlie laughed. "You heard the boss…better not."

Peeling back the wrap, Coraline looked straight at her mother as she scooped out a generous helping of the gooey snack. Chomping her teeth together with a '_clack_' before swallowing the whole mouthful in one noisy gulp, her pride was the only thing that kept her from gagging as her mouth filled with the awful taste of spoiled milk.

Her mother simply arched a brow; her father whistled and burst into song: "_Mary, Mary, quite contrary_…"

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"Class, get out your homework from last night--today we'll be going over the use of scare tactics in fairytales as a preventative measure…"

Coraline shuffled through her notebook, heart sinking into her churning stomach. '_I think I must've forgotten to do it… and my extra paper, too. Damn._'

Another ominous gurgle made its way to her ears from her abdomen. '_I shouldn't have eaten that crap, but there was no way I was going to let Mom win…she'd never let me forget it!_'

Raising a shaky hand, Coraline clenched her jaw and waited as her teacher purposely ignored her, casually wandering from desk to desk collecting papers. A sharp stab of pain had her fingers clenching, digging into her leg in an attempt to distract her gag reflex. "Excuse me! I need to use the restroom."

The teacher paused before slowly twisting his head to regard her askance, not bothering to fully face her. "What, so soon into the class? This wouldn't be because you haven't done your work, hmm?"

Coraline whimpered as her innards waged war on each other. "No, I just need to go--**now**."

The man chuckled snidely. "I don't think so. You can wait. Now--"

Out of time, she stood up quickly and bolted for the door, deaf to her teacher's indignant shouts as she made a mad dash for the girl's room.

She made it, but only just.

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"--rude, belligerent, willfully disobedient…yes, he says she refused to complete her assignments and then left without permission…mm-hmm…"

Coraline plucked a loose thread from her ugly uniform skirt, tongue burning from all the mouthwash she'd used. "For the hundredth time, I was **sick**--I had to go!"

The guidance counselor waved a hand dismissively, phone cradled between her shoulder and neck as she filed her garish red fingernails into fine points. '_Harpy,_' Coraline sneered, frustrated.

"Yes, she'll be sent home regular-time today, but she's expected to report to Saturday detention this weekend…that's all, uh-huh. Bye-bye now." Hanging up, the woman turned her beady eyes on the blue-haired girl seated across from her. "Well, I've just informed your parents of the situation."

Coraline had to bite her lip to contain her retort. _'I __**know**__._'

The counselor itched her beak-like nose with a clawed fingertip and leered, looking very much like a buzzard posing triumphantly over a fresh carcass. "You're free to go, Ms. Jones. We'll be seeing you this Saturday, so don't make any plans," she said nastily, going back to her primping.

If she knew Coraline was flipping her off behind her back, she said nothing.

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Wybie, being a know-it-all, had naturally already heard the entire story before he even saw Coraline at the end of the day.

And, being a young man of no small amount of intelligence, he knew better than to ask about it.

But he did anyway.

"Jonesy," he greeted, leaning against the row of lockers next to said girl as she shoved her books into the small space, fury radiating from her in tangible waves. "That really sucks, what happened to you--you okay?"

Coraline didn't respond, but her movements became a bit rougher.

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Wybie hunched down closer and twiddled his gloved thumbs, not daring to look up from the skeletal pattern adorning them. "Y-you, ah, remember what I said before…? You can tell me about it. You'll feel better. I could try to help--"

Coraline whipped around and grabbed Wybie by the collar of his jacket, battle aura flaring. "If you don't shut up right now, _Wybourne_, I swear I'll hit you so hard your future children will feel it."

His sudden, fiery blush only served to fuel her anger. Releasing him with a grunt, she marched toward the parking lot, eager to get away from the hated school.

Wybie smoothed his coat with a shudder, tilting his head to disguise his smile. '_I __**had**__ to pick a wild one…_'

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Infatuated as he was, Wybie noticed immediately that Coraline was not sitting properly on the motorbike as they drove home. Voiced muffled by his skull mask, he bent his head back as far as he could without looking away from the road and yelled "Jonesy, you gotta hang on tighter than that!"

Coraline bristled at the command. "I'm fine. Just go, dork."

Wybie felt his cheeks flaming as he reached down and grabbed one of her hands. Tugging, he tried to adjust her grip on his waist. "Hang **on**, it's not safe!"

Wrenching her arm back, Coraline stubbornly relaxed her hold further, refusing to be ordered around.

Neither one saw the sizable pothole until it was too late.

The bike lurched beneath them, bucking; Wybie fell forward into the handlebars with a shout--

Coraline went flying, launched off the backseat and into the air before crash-landing.

The boy lay still for one stunned moment before leaping up and staggering to her side, horrified. "Coraline!"

She was immobile on her back, eyes huge as she gasped, tears streaming out and pooling in the dirt below.

Wybie knelt down and proceeded to freak out. "Oh my god, Jonesy! What is it? What should I do?!"

Coraline could do little but heave, unable to speak.

"Okay, okay, health class last quarter--we talked about CPR. Oh man, don't kill me for this, but…" Sucking in a deep lungful of air, Wybie pinched her nose tightly shut and fused his mouth to hers, pushing his warm breath into her, forcing her chest to expand.

As she slipped into unconsciousness, her last thought was '_Not exactly how I pictured our first kiss…_'

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Without opening her eyes, Coraline could tell she was in her own bed. Blinking, she gradually came fully awake and tried to sit up; her mother's voice piped up next to her as a hand gently pushed her back down. "Shush, give it a minute."

Staring up into her mother's dark eyes, Coraline coughed and asked "What happened…?"

Mel sighed, sitting next to her daughter on the bed. "Seems you got the wind knocked out of you when you fell--doctor says it would've gone away on its own in a few seconds, but your friend didn't know that. He gave you mouth-to-mouth, cutting off your air supply, and you fainted…cute of him to try and help, though."

Coraline burrowed her head under her covers to hide her rosy blush, avoiding her mother's knowing smirk. "Erm…"

"As for your little incident at school--well, being feisty runs in the family."

The older woman stood and walked to the door; pausing, she glanced back and smiled. "Please get some sleep, alright? You need it."

Already dozing off, Coraline complied without a fuss.

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The next day saw a number of visitors coming to check on the 'invalid,' who in all honesty was quite well--but that didn't stop her from milking the attention for all it was worth (which wasn't much).

Misses Spink and Forcible brought plenty of inedible taffy--"let it soften a bit in the sun, dear,"--and several tins of English tea, some of which was brewed and consumed on the spot.

"No need to read your tea-leaves, is there, poppet? We hear your love life is coming along very nicely, yes…" The old ladies tittered like schoolgirls as Coraline averted her eyes, bashful.

Mr. Bobinsky brought a burlap sack full of beets--"make your breathing so strong, you never lose wind again!"

Well, it's the thought that counts.

At last, Wybie came stumbling into her room, urged on by a nudge from his Grandma. The elderly lady, no longer afraid of the Pink Palace, wished Coraline a speedy recovery; before making her way out the door and back down the stairs, she shot her grandson a meaningful glare.

Alone together, both teens lapsed into an awkward silence. Wybie fidgeted, scuffing his toes on the floor, before finally giving in to his pathological need to chatter. "S-so. How are you f-feeling?"

Coraline became very interested in the pattern on her comforter. "Fine. All I needed was some sleep, I guess…"

"Oh. Good."

Outside, a single cricket chirped--before the distinct sound of Cat pouncing on and crushing it was heard.

"Jonesy--"

"Wybie--"

Both laughed, embarrassed; Coraline shrugged and motioned for Wybie to go ahead.

"N-no, ladies' first," he stuttered.

"Wybie, spit it out," she ordered.

"Okay," he backed down instantly. "Um, about yesterday…"

Coraline leaned against the wall, expectant.

"…You really should have just listened to me."

"…Excuse me?" she spluttered, shell-shocked.

"It's like this," he explained, pacing the length of the room, standing a little straighter than normal. "You could have been hurt really bad, and all because you're too proud to do what people tell you! You're pig-headed and a bit of a bully--"

She stood and stomped over to him, pushing him down onto the window-seat with a shove. "You sure you wanna continue, _Wybourne_?"

He swallowed hard but looked her right in the eye. "I need to say this, and you need to hear it."

'_He's serious,_' she realized, impressed by his gutsy attitude.

"You're so dead-set on doing what you want, how you want to, that you don't think about what might happen--to you or anyone else. You have no idea how worried…uh, your p-parents were…" he trailed off, blushing.

Suddenly she knew exactly what he meant.

"You were worried about me, Wybie?" she asked, watching his face closely.

He ducked his head shyly. "Yeah."

Without a second thought she sat on his lap, using both hands to lift his face out of his elbow. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But this is who I am, and it's not gonna change anytime soon."

He dared to look up at her, covering her hands with his own. "I know. You come in like a lion and go out the same way--a freckle-faced tornado, a path of destruction in your wake."

She giggled and punched him lightly. "Watch it, buddy."

"Obviously you can't help getting yourself into trouble. You need someone to keep an eye on you--and help you break out of detention this weekend." His shy grin turned mischievous.

Coraline wound her arms around his slumped shoulders. "You got any suggestions, Mr. Know-it-all?"

"I don't know **everything**," he admitted, drawing her down toward himself, "but I'm sure about this…"

She waited, heart in her throat.

"…I'm the one for you. Pick me, Jonesy."

For the first time ever, Coraline let somebody else do the bossing around.

The entwined couple fell back against the window, lips meeting, parting, and rejoining feverishly; neither one noticed the howling gusts just beyond the glass, or the harsh light shining in with an almost unnatural intensity.

The Sun and the Wind observed, annoyed, as Love proved itself to be the most powerful force of all.

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AN: So, if you couldn't already tell, I really love sayings… XD

The key idea here was to explore Coraline's stubborn nature. I think a truly stubborn person only does what they're told if they want to, asked nicely or not. Haha!

Credit goes to Aesop for 'the Sun & the Wind,' and Malcolm Forbes for the "dumbest people" quote.

Not sure, but I've been kicking around the idea of doing a bunch of oneshots based on fables/classic fairytales, so we'll see how you guys like this one! :P

Please read & review, and hope you enjoyed it!

---258.


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